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It was a bright, sunny morning. Young Darien Windsurfer was sneaking out of the woods even with the notion that his parents didn't allow him to. "There is danger outside" says his father. "But I want to go and practice my archery!" says Darien. "I said NO!" exclaimed his father. Tears filled Darien's eyes. "Look honey, something terrible is about to happen. The High-Elves of Tamriel predicted something bad that's about to happen". Darien didn't believe this. He always had a stubborn heart. An hour after his "adventure" in the woods, he came home. He saw a smoke coming from afar, coming from the direction towards his village. He ran as fast as he could, but as he reached his village, he was greeted by dead bodies and burned houses. He ran to his house, praying to the gods that his parents were safe. When he got there, no one was inside. He looked for them and found his mom near one of their neighbor's house, lying on the ground. "Mother!" He fell to the ground and wrapped her in his arms.

"What happened?" he asked. "It was the Ebonheart Pack, they've attacked." his mother replied, clenching for her life. "We were looking for you when we were about to evacuate, but they came quickly." she added. "Where's father?" he asked. "H-h-he..was taken by a dark-elf" she replied. This time, you could hear the life slipping through. "Y-y-you need to find him". "How? I'm just a child!" he replied. "I have a secret to tell you. I'm sorry to have k-k-kept it a secret." "what is it?" "I am Queen Ayrenn's sister. I ran away from my duty because i did not want a life of constant battle. And yet, here I am, still caught up w-w-w-with it." "Mother, we should go and find someone to heal you" "No, it's too late for me. You are a half Wood-Elf, half High-Elf child. A warrior's strength and wisdom flows in your veins. Go to S-s-summerset and find Ayrenn, she will know that you are my son. She will help you find y-y-your father."

Slowly, Darien's mother closed her eyes and kissed his hands one more time. "I'm sorry. I l-l-love you." she said, as she rested forever. Wiping the tears off his face, he rose up from the ground, clenching his bow, swearing that he would find his father, and that he would kill the mysterious Dark-Elf. He called that day the "Red Rain" for the red banners of the Ebonheart Pact, and the blood of his loved ones filled his village.

He met different people who shaped him into what he is now. A sure-shot archer and a master assassin, making his way to Queen Ayrenn and kill everyone in Ebonheart Pact. Will his anger and rage fuel his victory? or will it lead him into defeat?

In a small village, the young, determined orc farm boy begins to think of how happy he is with life. He sees adventurers coming through town often. Admiring and feeling envious of their freedom he sets his goal of being able to one day travel as they do. Everyday, after he has finished his work, the young orc trains himself, pushing his body part his limits in hopes of one day being able to travel the world and see its wonders.

Many years later boy has now grown to a fine adult. He begins his adventure in search of a mentor to teach him how to fight. He walked through blizzards and sandstorms and passed through a number of towns searching for a suitable master. As he grew weary of his search he decided to check out a place he heard of where an old man lived. Rumors say that the old man was once a powerful warrior, capaple of destroying armies without a weapon. He even went up against a daedric prince and survived it only because the monster feared the old man's power and sent him away.

The young orc traveled to the old warrior's house to ask for training. The old man denied him without a single second of hesitation. With his heart weighing heavy the young orc asked if he could stay the night, as it was getting late and he had nowhere else to go. The old man looked deep into the young orc's eyes and allowed him to stay the night.

The next morning, the orc awoke to the smell of breakfast. As he walked into the kitchen, still half asleep, he saw the old man making breakfast for the both of them. He thanked the old man and offered to help, to which the old man replied by throwing the hot pan of food at the orc along with other cooking supplies. Shocked, the orc quickly reacted and caught the pan with the food still inside and all the other cooking supplies except one. The old man turned slowly, looked at the orc and said "I will train you."

Over the next two years the orc trained and followed the old man's instructions to the letter. Finally, after learning the way of the sword, Axe, and unarmed fighting, the old man decided he had taught the orc all he had known. The orc thanked the old man and started on his way to his adventure. As he was leaving the old man asked him for a favor. "If you should come across a daedric prince, do not reveal your true power until you are certain he will not escape. I fought one long ago who escaped before I could finish him. He is still out there and still tortures souls." The orc nodded and left on his journey to discover the world and all its wonders.

This is the back story of Marryn. A young sorcereress destined to rise in the ranks of the Empire despite having what some people may refer to as "issues."

Enjoy.

-

-Chapter 1-

I love the smell of smoke, the warmth of spreading flames. It's been that way since almost as long as I can remember and is the main reason I thrived since answering my calling. It doesn't really matter what's burning as long as I see it, feel it, love it. Today my heart was overflowing.

Seeing the lush trees and foliage darken from what some may describe as a vibrant green to a beautiful black, the type of black you would expect to see if you looked into the void where a demon's soul would be, was ecstasy.

Today Arenthia would burn, as all of Valenwood soon would, to be reborn anew as part of Cryodill, part of the Empire.

As the Lord Magus, the Supreme Pyromancer, I would make sure of it.

"Incendium!"

With the word of power whispered to help direct my fury, I called down a pillar of fire that hit what looked to be a modest family home. The force of the spell hit the roof with such force that the it instantly collapsed. The windows exploded outward in what can only be described as a storm of razor and molten fury. I paused for a second to picture the Bosmer soldiers that had been inside.

"Aaah." I breathed out, a joyous release.

The fire(so beautiful) continued to spread. Trees, Houses, Towers, People burned until ash. As another elven grunt was whimmed into oblivion, a distinctively young but firm voice cut through the wonderful chaos.

"You know I had that one!"

I grinned as Marriona, my apprentice, appeared through the smoke. Her straight black hair fell just a little over her shoulders. It outlined her full but cute face and flowed nicely with her custom uniform. The robe was black with red trim, standard of those under my command, with the sleeves removed beyond the mantle. The steel brest-plate had been forged specifically for her and accentuated her curvy form unbelievably for such a material. The plate was open in the front allowing a distracting amount of her tanned skin and ample bosom to show. It looked even better in the light of the flames.

Yeah, I was staring, but in my defense I do have eyes.

Shaking her head, Marriona unleashed a word of power.

"Ignis!"

It was followed by a shower of delicious smelling ash that cascaded over my back and shoulders.

"That's going to get you killed someday." she stated, coming to my side.

I had known the lanky Bosmer had been behind me, but had been fairly sure she had "had that one" as well. Then again she has tried to kill me before but that's another story and she was just joking... maybe.

"Mistress, the Emperor is moving ahead and wishes to consult you before the next stage begins. He wishes you to return to the center."

"The old man is getting impatient with his age." I answered. "Good. Everything is still going as planned."

I turned, walking back through the charred, dead remains of the forest town; now my work of art. My pyromancers would finish the job here. I had more important things to do and burn as right hand of the Emperor and soon as much more.

I laughed as I approached the grand tent in the center of the formation.
Everything had fallen into place.

-Chapter 2-

Right hand of the Emperor. I wasn't always here. Hell, most of my life I wasn't even close. I grew up normal enough.

It was a small farm on the east side of the Nibenay Basin. Lots of open fields and places for kids to run and play. My father died when I was 5. I don't remember much about him. My mother raised us alone after that. For the life of me I can't remember her face but she had hair like gold. I guess that's where I got it. But like I was saying she raised all three of us herself. Me, my older brother, Bryan, and my older sister, Ellen.

Like any single mother she was a little over-protective. Kept us from going out. Locked us in the cellar most of the time. Punished us pretty hard for not appreciating it but it kept us safe. That is until the first time I heard the calling.

I was about 15 when it happened. I really didn't mean for it to. She always told me she loved me. So, it had to be true. Right? I just wanted to go outside for a little, feel the sun. The heat always felt so good. She wanted to protect me so she hit me, pushed me back into the cellar. I was so angry to be forced inside but I could still feel the sun somehow. The sun felt so good, so close. Like it was inside me.
Then it exploded.

The fire moved so fast. The cellar was instantly a furnace. She couldn't get out. My brother and sister couldn't get out. But I did. When I stepped out of the rubble into the light, the sun didn't seem quite as warm but still wonderful.

This may sound weird but it felt right. I knew I had to leave but I couldn't go without my family. I filled my lungs with the most delicious flavor. I breathed in their smokey essences and they were with me.

After leaving home I was on the road for a while. Sure there were some interesting encounters but nothing that really matters as far as this story goes. Nothing that important until the day after my 19th birthday. The day that I met my Master.

-Chapter 3-

I was running along the sun bleached walls in the outskirts of the Imperial City. I'd been there there looking for work, with mild success. It's actually why I was running. Some of the local thugs tended to think it proper etiquette to give them whatever money a person happened to make. Today that person was me and I disagreed.

Their leader, short but brawny guy was followed by three others. All wearing similar dark leathers accented with metal buckles and studs. Each had a orange cloth wrapped around them at the arm, head, or neck.
They kept yelling nonsense about me stopping as I wove around crates and empty stalls.

That really didn't need to happen, at least not yet. If they caught me, pushed me too far, they would end up dead. Not that I really minded that. It had been too long since I got to play. I was getting pretty good at it. It just raised a lot of questions, I had to be careful.

I was sure I was about to get away. I zigged and zagged. Jumped the remains of a low wall. Turned a quick corner and ran straight into a brick wall.

I know I should have gone with the back up plan of burning them alive but you see it's damn hard to do anything when you're unconscious. Much less focus enough pent up anger to will fire into existence. It's just black and I really wished it had lasted a little longer.

I woke up disoriented. The best way to describe my senses are that point is like trying to look through ten feet of muddy water, when the sun is going down. But little by little my senses did start to come around. The first thing I noticed was the giant cut across my forehead(I still have a nice scar from that) and the resulting sheet of blood running down my face. There were other little things. Things like the fact that my hands were bound tightly behind me and someone was kicking the hell out of me.

I tried to make the fire come out but I guess I wasn't angry enough. There's a point when you're getting worked over that you don't really care about being angry; you just want it to stop. That's where I had waken up.

After what seemed like an eternity, I thought I was going to have a stroke of luck and pass out again. I didn't quite make it. They stopped before I got back to the peaceful dark. The three kicking me had backed up and were frantically patting themselves. Like they were desperately trying to extinguish some phantom flame. One dropped to the ground and began rolling.

The screaming started at the same time as the smoke. Dark red, near black, smoke that poured out of their mouths, noses, and ears. It was followed by a flame that roared through every color in the spectrum of fire. Going from orange to red, through yellow and green, flashing blue and purple for a second before turning to a blinding white. It tore at them violently exploding from new holes in their abdomens before full engulfing them. Then they were gone.

Their leader, the short, brawny turned to run but hit face met with the palm of a towering figure. I heard a quite whisper.

"Solis."

There was a quick flash and the thug fell backwards. His face melted away exposing the charred muscle and bone beneth. The skin still twisting and and peeling away. His eyes nothing but smoking voids.

It was the most wonderful display I had ever seen.

Bravain was his name. Lord Magus at the time and the man who would be my Master.
He had a very strong mature look. Broad shoulders and muscular. The type of muscular that takes a lifetime of dedication to achieve; not the type thirty set ups in the morning and brisk walking will achieve. He stood about a foot over me. Around six four, maybe six five. His hair(dark brown just starting to show signs of gray) and beard were long but well kept and hid a strong angular face.

He wore a long, open black robe trimmed in red with fine gold stitching. Over was a matching red stole that draped from around his neck and over the mantle that extended outwards slightly, giving his shoulders a sharp appearance. Underneath he wore black pants and a black shirt with a low V that highlighted his muscularity. By all accounts he was a very handsome sorcerer.

No. That wasn't why I went with him. At least not the only reason. He promised something I craved; the power to paint the world with flame.

-Chapter 4-

In two years I had flown through the ranks. Initiate to Conjurer of the Third Order was no small task.
Sure there were some moving just as fast as I, some faster, but they always seemed to have accidents. Bursting into flame during a shower. Smudged focus circles causing spells to backfire. Odd things. None of which can be traced back to me. Thank you.

But still it was all for the best. I had gotten close to the master. I didn't want him to have another favorite. He was the only one that made the destruction even better. I wanted to burn the world with him.

-At this point Bravain and his pyromancers take control of the Empire in a quick but bloody coup.
Bravain leaves the majority of his old sect stationed else. Marryn overestimating her position with the new Emperor is included.
-

I still don't understand why he left me there. I had helped him so much. After he overthrew the old Emperor, he should have taken me with him. He rules now. He could have. Didn't he care? Why didn't he care?
I would make him care. Make him realize his mistake.
I could do better. It took time but I knew where to go.

-Chapter 5-

By the time I had ascended to Lord Magus. I had the knowledge but still lacked the power I was promised by the lying bastard. That's where my new master came in. He wouldn't lie. He cared. He would give me my power. I just had to do one thing but I didn't mind. Really...

The rain was pouring down on the fine cobble stone that formed the majority of the roads outside the grounds. Combined with the water forced there from the rooftops, those roads were now small but growing streams, void of life especially at the late hour. I waited there under a grass awning that sheltered me from the worst of the weather. It was the right spot. There had been too much planning and effort to make such a stupid mistake. She would be there.

Only minutes later, I heard a slow splashing. The sound of someone walking through the flooding streets. I slowly peaked around the corner to confirm. She was there and she was beautiful. I could almost understand it. The elegant white gown was trimmed with a lite blue and interwoven with what moved and shone like the purest of gold. The storm violently whipped at the bottom of the gown blowing it behind her. The rain caused the white fabric to appear shear, showing off every contour of her fit form. It clung to he chest displaying her perky breasts made even more so by the cool rain. Below was the clear outline of her swollen stomach and inside the Heir to the Empire.

I fell in behind her, making as little noise as possible. This was my only chance. I couldn't be too hasty. Luckily, the falling water and her own footsteps made me invisible. Like a spectral hawk I stalked my prey.

She finally passed the marked point, rounded the corner out of the site of prying eyes. I moved. I didn't run. I just moved. Just fast enough to catch up. Just fast enough for her to notice me. She ran down the alleyway.

The water was still flowing from the slanted rooftops. Down onto crates and bins but ultimately onto the ground. The clouds were nice enough to open up behind me allowing me to see her slip in the torrent of water and leave her no place to hide. She fell to he side to spare the child and rolled to her back catching a glimpse of me. Then like a frightened crab attempted to escape in an awkward inverted crawl. It didn't work. I grabbed her throat and with one hand lifted her fear painted face to mine. I'm sure if she could have screamed she would have.

With a word of power, my free hand began to glow in a raging heat. As it approached her the gown instantly dried and melted away exposing her full eight month stomach. I couldn't stop there, not that I wanted to. As I got closer her skin blackened and bubbled. Crackling and releasing the most wonder aroma. Still, there had to be more. My hand slid through her like a knife in warm butter. The feeling of her muscles and innards burning, tearing, cauterizing at my touch was almost overwhelming.

I continued to dig, searching for my goal. At last finding it. I gripped hard and pulled hard. The little Prince burst forth in a shower of burnt blood and charred entrails.

Her twitching, bloodless face was like the most beautiful of paintings found in the palace halls. I dropped her but held the Heir still corded to his dying mother. It cried softly as I filled it with heat. When it could feel it's insides come to a boil I promptly bit the neck and ingested the rich near molten goo.

I threw the empty husk to the face of it's ***** mother just before she took her last breath. Then watched them both burn to ash and the ash wash away.

As I left, I could feel a new power filling me like nothing I could have imagined. Dagon had not lied. He wouldn't. He's like me. He cared. Soon all of Tamriel would or they would burn. They might anyway. Just a little longer.

-Chapter 6-

-With control of the pyromancer sect, Marryn continues to remove those that stand between her and the Emperor while directing the suspicion of his disappearing wife and son toward Queen Ayrenn and the Aldmeri Dominion. The Emperor, outraged, begins a crusade to uncover the truth and begins his assault on Valenwood. Bringing us to now...
-

The Story of Burnbale Regallon

Burnbale Regallon grew up with three brothers and a single mother, it was tough for him living without a father but
he still had his fathers' set of mind of perfection and innovation. Burnbale was the eldest son of Dorothy Regallon therefore
he was always looked up by his younger brothers whom were Jerome, Thomas and Kendrell.

When Burnbale became fifteen years of age, he started to become more and more innovative, he had many ideas and started using them to make profit. His younger brothers assisted him in making his innovative ideas possible.

After years of manufacturing and testing, Burnbale has finally created the most wonderful thing in all of Tamriel...

The 'Honningbrew Mead', one of the nicest, tongue tingling, throat soothing alcoholic beverage with a slight
buzz at the end. Back in the old days Tamriel was so quiet that the only way to make profit is to make people happy and what Burnbale spotted is that the happy people are always drinking, this is what made Burnbale create his own recipe and manufacture the beverage with his brothers at his own little wooden shack near his house in Valenwood.

Burnbale opened up his own little store where he sold the specific Honningbrew Mead and his brothers manufactured it behind the store which made them quite profitable but not profitable enough, after a while Burnbale and the brothers decided to put all the money they have and purchase a small boat to sail to Alinor on the Summerset Isles where the legend has it that one who goes to that place and reaches the highest point, will find a crystal sky shard which will grant the person magical abilities and so the brothers sailed off.

Once the brothers docked at Alinor docks on the Summerset Isles each of them have challenged each other to reach the highest point first, this is when the brotherhood ripped and hatred began.
Burnbale did not want the brotherhood to end and as he watched down from the bottom of the mountains as his three only brothers fought and competed to reach the crystal sky shard he felt upset and wanted to go back in time when everything was just perfect, unfortunately the time was not mend-able and Burnbale could not do a single thing to stop his brothers from fighting.

Two days in to the hike Kendrell has threatened to kill Thomas whilst hiking up the mountain together, Thomas refused and Kendrell had a fight with him when suddenly Thomas tripped over and snapped his neck over a big tree branch. Jerome noticed the two having a brawl which made him run back to them and figure out what happened, when he checked that Thomas is laying on a big tree branch lifeless, he looked at Kendrell and wanted to ask him what happened, that is when pulled out a small butter knife and stabbed Jerome right in to the lungs... Jerome slowly slid out of the knife, fell down on the ground and slowly stopped breathing.

Kendrell kept climbing a mountain but the flashbacks of him killing two of his own brothers kept distracting him and messing with his mind, this is when Kendrell fell half way from the mountain and right next to Burnbales' feet.
Burnbale thought he was dreaming, he simply thought it was unreal and attempted to wake Kendrell up but all hope was lost, Kendrell died on the impact with the ground.
Burnbale decided to investigate why Kendrell fell off and what actually happened up in the mountain so he started to climb the mountain himself.

After several calm days of climbing in to the mountain, Burnbale has spotted the bodies of Thomas and Jerome, Burnbale rushed to their bodies and started shaking them about when he suddenly realised that Thomas was lifeless without a pulse and Jerome had blood all over his shirt in the lung area. Burnbale was confused and lost, he did not what to do, what to think or where to go. All Burnbale was able to remember is that he needs to reach the top of this mountain. Burnbale berried the bodies of his brothers up in the mountain, rested a few days and continued to climb the mountain to reach the crystal sky shard.

Reaching the Crystal Sky Shard

After a few days of climbing the mountain through a treacherous weather that Burnbale had to experience,
he finally climbed the top of the mountain and was visually blinded by what was the most beautiful thing in all of Tamriel.
He started grinning and reaching towards it when suddenly he was lifted in the air with a white sky aura wrapping around
and within his body, he then was gently placed on the ground with his feet feeling more sturdier than ever before.

Burnbale did not see or feel any different after being infused with the magical aura, nor was he able to recall what
has just happened to him, Burnbale started to slowly climb down the mountain whilst thinking why he climbed up it
in the first place. As the days passed when he climbed down the mountain and months passed whilst getting back home,
a huge war erupted in Tamriel when the current King has died of old age and a new reign was about to be picked,
three alliances have started fighting for his Lordships' crown inside Cyrodiil.

Discovering His Power

When Burnbale arrived home back from his adventure without his brothers, he noticed that his house has been demolished
and new buildings have been erupted such as the smith and a weapon seller. He felt angry within him and as he got angry his hands
started glowing, he pointed his hands at the weapon seller and smith and shouted at them as loud as he could when suddenly he released
an unbearable force of power which killed the smith and the weapon seller instantly.

Shocked, Burnbale started running North from Valenwood, reaching Falinesti followed by Arenthia and then the borders of Cyrodiil,
Burnbale ran so fast without stopping that he did not even know he has already crossed the borders of Cyrodiil.

He encountered many foes like spiders, bats and skeletons that he had fought to survive, but that just got him more and more
angry which lead to increasing the power of this magical aura within his body and mind.

After a few days it was harvest season and Cyrodiil has calmed down and the deer would come out of hiding, Burnbale started to harvest food like berries and apples, he built himself a shack near Kvatch where he started to recall the Honningbrew Mead he has created, so off he went to gather resources to start making his finest Honningbrew Mead once again.

A few weeks later people with heavy armour and wizards with staves started visiting Burnbales' little shack for that specific Honningbrew Mead so he decided to make a tavern right next to his shack, he went to Kvatch and asked for volunteers to help him build his tavern and so they have accepted. The volunteers would gather the materials and start building the foundation of the tavern whereas Burnbale would gather the resources to manufacture his Honningbrew Mead. He paid off the volunteers with his own beverage and the volunteers were happily to continue to work for Burnbale.

The Cyrodiil Incident

Another sunny day in Cyrodiil, the tavern is nearly finished, everyone is enjoying the Honningbrew Mead and Burnbale seems to have adjusted to this type of life. He asked a few volunteers if they would like to work at the tavern and two big muscular men stood up from resting and nodded towards Burnbale, their names were Kirngord and Grazier. Burnbale approached them to shake their hands when suddenly a big fire ball hit directly the tavern that was near finished, the tavern was completely wrecked and on fire.
Burnbale dropped to his knees and was shocked on what just happened, his entire work and future just burned in front of his very own eyes.

In the distance Burnbale was able to see large groups of Argonians from the Ebonheart Pact rush towards Burnbales' location, suddenly Burnbale heard a horn blowing right behind him where an even larger group of Altmers' and Khajiits' of the Aldmeri Dominion rushed towards Burnbale.
Burnbale stood up and started getting angry which made him glow more and more, all the volunteers except Kirngord and Grazier started fleeing. Altmers' started to build several Trebuchets and a Ballistae behind them where as the Khajiits' rushed towards the Argonians before clashing and fighting.

Burnbale charged so much power that he somewhat was lifted off the ground as he moved, he started moving towards the clashed battle and pointed at several Argonians where he lifted them all up and electrocuted them all at the same time, the Argonian bodies fell from the skies lifeless and burnt.
The rest of the Argonians fled and the Khajiits' with Altmers' simply starred at Burnbale as he landed with his feet on the ground.

One Altmer walked up to Burnbale and tapped on his shoulder whilst grinning through his hefty heavy armoured helmet but suddenly an arrow was flying and Burnbale was able to hear it but he did not react fast enough before the arrow struck Burnbale straight through him, slightly above his heart.
Burnbale was knocked out cold when the arrow struck him, the arrow was poisoned with some sort of magical stun that knocks out and poisons the target.

The Beginning of War

Being unconscious for a week and a half Burnbale started waking up, but he was nowhere near his tavern or his shack, he was in the deployment area of the Aldmeri Dominion Faction. He slowly stood up from the bed placing his feet on the ground whilst holding on to the part where he was struck by the arrow, as he lifted his head up Kirngord and Grazier were standing in front of him with heavy plate armour, Kirngord with a two handed word and Grazier with two axes. They helped Burnbale to stand on hi feet and handed him a robe to put on, Kirngord and Grazier left the tent and waited outside whilst Burnbale changed to the robe and slowly followed.

A man approached Burnbale in shiny glowing armour, it looked like it was light armour type of armour and he seemed somewhat of importance because there were always three to five guards behind him.
He turned around and grabbed a stave from one of his guards and handed it to Burnbale, it seemed like a basic looking wooden stick but at the end it had some sort of shiny white crystal, similar to the one Burnbale acquired energy from at the top of the mountain.

Burnbale grabbed the stave and bowed towards the man in shiny glowing armour, Kirngord tabbed Burnbale on the back and all three of them started heading towards the center of Cyrodiil whilst looking around at hundreds of people just like him and his new friends heading to the same direction as they were.

This is when the story of Burnbale in Tamriel really begins, new friends, new talents and skills and a whole lot going on in Cyrodiil.

I was born in the province of High Rock as a relatively strong child. I never met my father, he seemed to fade from the family. Why he left is still a bit of information that eludes me to this day. I grew up in Daggerfall, my mother raised me on her own accord. She passed when I was merely six years old, she is with the gods now. I attempted to strike out on my own accord, although it was less of a choice and more of a necessity. I soon found that the only way to survive was to take what I needed. By the age of ten I was surprisingly apt in the ways of thievery. By chance I found myself entangled with the Thieves Guild who offered me protection and a purpose, it was a family of sorts. I utilized my talents that have one would acquire through a hard life of scrounging off those around you just to survive.

I had been running with the guild for about seven years when I accepted one job in particular that changed my course forever. The guild had been contracted by a man with a clearly duplicitous nature. But it was the Thieve’s guild, our employers weren’t outstanding members of society so naturally it seemed like any other job. I had been in the middle of the job when I witnessed a creature I could not describe. It was a beast of nightmarish complexion, looking into it’s dark eyes I could see the savage primality that it seemed to exude. I felt my courage sink as I struggled not to flee in the other direction right there. I pulled myself together and mustered the courage to attempt to sneak past this fiend.

I was merely a shadow on the wall to this creature, all the skills I accumulated over the years seemed to be coalescing in a perfect form that gave me hope of survival. Yet it was not quite good enough it seemed, I tripped on a rock and stumbled to the ground. The creature turned to me and the most awful sound emanated from it. I looked in those dark eyes and could see the malice and contempt it clearly held for me. It charged towards me with as much ferocity as one would expect from such a beast. I attempted to block it’s oncoming swings as it waved wildly with no form or grace. It’s sharp talon stroke my arm and I was knocked back by the impact. I felt that this would be my end, the creature leapt at me when suddenly the creature roared with a bestial vigor and fell. I laid upon the ground for another moment unsure of what had happened. I noticed the shaft of an arrow sticking out of it’s back. The moment of relief was so great that I found myself laughing. I suddenly saw a figure exit the bushes from the direction of the arrow. I was so filled with fright that I collapsed.

I awoke to find a woman leaning over me, she told me the beast’s talons had contained a deadly poison and I was lucky to be alive. She told me that the danger had passed, luckily she had prior knowledge of the alchemical arts and had cured me. When I inquired as to why she saved my life, she claimed that she “sensed” something about me and felt compelled to aid me. She told me that she was a ranger for the Daggerfall Covenant in the war between the three factions. She seemed to have knowledge of events that were happening at that moment but had seemed to elude my knowledge. The Daedric Prince Molag Bal was attempting to weaken the barrier between the worlds of Coldharbour (his own little realm of Oblivion) and Nirn. I asked if I could aid her in this pursuit as it seemed more noble and important than what I was currently involved with.

Before I knew it my life with the guild was over as I found a much more important calling. She had trained me in the arts of combat, a set of deadly and quick skills to align with my talents in sneaking. The next couple months had seemed a blur of battles as we fought against both the Aldmeri Dominion and the Ebonheart Pact. One night while in camp I was letting my mind wander about the glory of combat when I heard a noise in the distance. I spotted two combatants going forth, it was horrible. There seemed to be a blur of fire and blades when I decided to hurry forward and survey the situation. I noticed that it was “her”, she was fighting a necromancer. She was doing her routine of dodging and waiting for him to expel his mana before she struck when he seemed to conjure a ball of fire that had instantly struck her. I found myself running towards him with such fury swelling in my blood that my instincts kicked in and I threw a dagger towards him. He didn’t notice I was there until it was too late, he was blindsided by the blade that had stuck his face killing, he stumbled backwards awkwardly and was dead within a moment. I fell next to her and held her close. I shouted that she cannot die, but it seemed to matter very little. She was gone, and I swore to continue the work that we had began in a struggle against Molag Bal.

I had glimpsed the Daedric Prince of domination in my dreams, he laughed at me while claiming that my soul was his to attain. I awoke sweating when I heard screams off in the distance. The village near me was ablaze as smoke seemed to cloak the people within in a gray otherworldly haze. I ran towards it and found a slaughter taking place as Dremora ran wild killing and commiting all sorts of atrocities to horrible to name. I attempted to fight them, but they were stronger than I and they outnumbered me by quite a bit. I was killed in the fray, and the villagers were massacred. I failed, but I awoke in a strange place. All I can feel is the rage unfurled within me. It is a fire that is always burning and all consuming, I will find a way to vanquish Molag Bal and his minions even from death.

Whilst the first leg of my experience didn’t enchant me the way I wanted it to, spending more time with The Elder Scrolls Online was most definitely the remedy I needed. Not only did I hit level 10 and cast myself into the war-ravaged lands of Cyrodil, but I also spent a little more time questing, and sampled some of the crafting system.

Firstly let’s talk about questing in a little more detail; whilst it’s standard-fare as far as MMOs go, it’s still got that Elder Scrolls feel and Skyrim aesthetic. The NPCS, for the most part, are fully voice-acted which adds depth and tone to the quests, allowing you to feel more invested in the quests you’re taking on. Particularly the more famous of the cast, who make their own unique mark on the characters they portray – in particular John Cleese’s comedic role as Cadwell, and Michael Gambon as The Prophet.

That being said, I didn’t amass much appreciation for the quests in the earlier areas, but by the time I hit the later quests I felt much more interested in what was going on, and why I was being asked to perform certain tasks. Sure, some of them can be the run-of-the-mill ‘go and collect four <inanimate object>’ or ‘slay ten <nameless soldier>’. But with the addition of the surrounding environment, voice-acting, orchestral soundtrack, and the combat, I began to feel more involved in the story, and not like I was just filling my quest log to farm experience. This in turn caused me to lose myself in the game here and there, forgetting it was an MMO, amassing a more single-player-like experience - which slightly, although nowhere near completely, gave me delusions of Skyrim.

Whilst I had next to no trouble questing, and didn’t have to group up with other players even once to complete my objectives, I was aware most of the time that other players were around me. Plenty of the quest areas were awash with people waiting for enemy or item respawns, although this was only a problem in a couple of quests I had, due to the sheer number of players attempting to complete the same task.

The crafting system, whilst I didn’t spend much time with it, appears quite extensive and rewarding. And I focussed mainly on Blacksmithing in the short time I did spend with it. For instance, to level your Blacksmithing skill you will need to craft weapons and armour at the forge. Starting out being able to craft basic items, and as you gain in skill your repertoire of item possibilities will increase. Requiring raw materials to craft weapons and armour, you will need to mine ore deposits scattered about the world, although I only came across two in my time with the game, which you will be able to mine for raw materials to use in your crafting. Fortunately this isn’t the only way to gain raw materials – you can extract them from weapons and armour in your inventory at the forge. The quality of the item determines what you can extract, for instance a normal quality, or white item, will yield less materials or lesser quality materials than if you extracted from a green or blue quality item. The extraction system is a plus, as it gives you a choice on how you want to gain the materials you need, meaning gathering those materials isn’t so much of a slog as in similar games – sure you can mine ore deposits out in the great yonder, but if you’ve also got weapons or armour in your bag you’re not too bothered about selling, you can extract materials from those too. Some other crafting skills available are enchanting, woodworking, and alchemy.

The Elder Scrolls Online Screen CraftingMy character had a very precise watch-making hammer...

So I quested, I explored, and I crafted… I did all of these things right up until I hit level 10. As soon as that happened, it was time to see what the PVP side of things had to offer me.

The PVP is really what opened the game up, and showed me what was truly exciting about it. When you first enter Cyrodil, the sole PVP area of the game, you’re first confronted by its size - the map is huge! All three of the warring factions – The Ebonheart Pact, The Aldmeri Dominion, and The Daggerfall Covenant – are planted into their own corner of the map. Each faction must battle for control of Cyrodil’s outposts, gates, keeps and Elder Scrolls etc. You will see which faction holds which area by its colour - red (Ebonheart Pact), yellow (Aldmeri Dominion), or blue (Daggerfall Covenant) – resources that are linked and held by the same faction will provide bonuses and fast-travel (transitus network) to the players within that faction. However, should one of those linked resources come under attack the fast-travel option will not be available. Not being able to fast-travel into the fray has it’s perks though, as this brings forth epic-looking scenes of tens of hundreds of players running or riding across the battlefield towards the contested area to help defend, or attack.

When I first entered Cyrodil I opened up my map, picked the first outpost that my alliance (Aldmeri Dominion) was attacking, and headed straight for it. I asked for an invite into a group that was heading up the attack, and promptly received one. As soon as I accepted that invite I could see a bunch of white arrow markers showing me where my allies in the group were. To my surprise they were all fairly well grouped together and heading for the right place - with my experience of online games in which teamwork is key (Dota 2, I’m looking at you) I mainly see a random haphazard approach to team objective based gameplay, especially when it comes to grouping with random people. There was plenty of coordination in the chat too, with everyone quickly agreeing on where to head next, focussing our strikes on key areas.

As I was running toward my destination I could see a trebuchet on top of a rocky mound, slinging it’s payload into the distance – I knew I was close. Once I climb up onto the rock next to the trebuchet, my jaw literally dropped… it was a battlefield. The Ebonheart Pact were trying, and failing, to defend the small outpost we were hellbent on taking from them. Combat was a little sporadic in places, but you could clearly see the divide between factions. Now and again a brave individual would charge away from their group into the enemies attempting to pick off who they could. Smaller pockets of fighting were dotted around the area, which I jumped in and out of, trying to make a difference where I could. When we eventually took the outpost, it was time to move onto the keep, and that’s where the real battle began.

We only had there keep’s main door to breach with our battering ram, and once we had that down it was a bloody battle to clear out the remaining Ebonheart Pact to claim the keep as our own.

I also had some experience defending one of our own keeps too, which was quite a different story. Where previously everything seemed to be working perfectly, in this instance we were getting slaughtered. I was ambushed twice on my way to defend the keep, by three roaming enemy players, who were quite cleverly lying in wait to pick off lone reinforcements – one of them being me.

When I finally got to our keep, the amount of players was quite staggering, and unfortunately so was the lag. Despite this I set up my trebuchet directly behind the wall our enemies had almost breached, to try and scatter them so my allies could repair our defences. Not long after setting up, our wall came down and about sixty enemy players came charging towards me… which was terrifyingly hilarious!

I could have spent my entire experience of The Elder Scrolls Online just inside the PVP – it feels like a world all of its own. There are the alliance hub areas, where you can craft, sell your items, buy siege weapons, fast-travel, pick up quests. And then there’s the entire area of Cyrodil itself, with the many areas of it I didn’t even get to explore. I don’t know if the lag issues I had were a one-off, but if they can be kept to a minimum within the PVP then it’s going to be a solid, enjoyable experience, which will create intense and memorable battles 24 hours a day.

We might be delaying the end of the event to Monday instead of during the Friday livestream. Sorry but we're in some final negotiations with our middleman rep.

The good news? We may have a secondary physical prize available so that we can announce two winners instead of one. Nothing confirmed yet but keep the entries coming and I'll let you know when I know for sure.

I’d rather risk confusing some people than disappointing them. - Mark Jacobs

Rkak'zir was once a well-known defender of the Argonian people. In his forty-odd years as a commander, many a war he had fought, a monster he had slain, a dragon he had vanquished, and a child he had saved. One day, hours before dawn, he was awakened by terrifying screams and explosions surrounding his home. He rushed to don his armor and pick up his sword and shield, before running out the door.

What he saw he could never forget. The entire city was in ruins. Bodies littered the street, all the homes were turned to ash, fields were ablaze... No one survived, but him. At the end of the city, he saw a mysterious figure, levitating...emitting a vivid, ominous purple aura.

"Defend yourself," he bellowed across the battlefield, "and prepare to met with strict justice!". He took to a full sprint now, sword trailing in a rigid line behind him, as if the steadying tail of the powerful panther, as it prepares to pounce on its prey. As he neared, all went silent. Nothing existed outside of himself, and his target. There were no bodies, no fires, no ground... Time slowed down...

As Rkak'zir leapt to strike, she vanished. Everything did...

What seemed like a second later, Rkak'zir found himself sitting aboard a slave-trade ship on its way to Skyrim. Outside he could hear lightning, thunder, and crashing waves. He had no idea how he got there, or who he was. He remembered nothing of his past, and knew nothing of his present. The only thing he seemed to recall was that terrifying night and the ominous figure that caused it.

"Who am I," Rkak'zir thought to himself. "What is my name?"

Was this all a dream? How did he get here?

As the ship crashes upon some rocks near the shore, there was nothing left to do but escape the violent storm, and embark on a quest. A quest to find out who he was, where he was, and who that figure was. So began the journey of Rkak'zir, and how he regained his hero status, once again. This time for a new people, and a new cause; but he knew he someday he'd have to find out what happened...

We might be delaying the end of the event to Monday instead of during the Friday livestream. Sorry but we're in some final negotiations with our middleman rep.

The good news? We may have a secondary physical prize available so that we can announce two winners instead of one. Nothing confirmed yet but keep the entries coming and I'll let you know when I know for sure.

Within these dead rock walls, the only happiness for us comes from fond recollection. Memories so soft and distant they seem like whispers. All too soon, these are stripped away, leaving nothing but the husks of the men and mer we once were. The scraps of identity left to me now are those which were strongest in life, but even now they fade like paintings abandoned beneath the desert sun. When I concentrate, I can almost see her face sometimes. At least on good days, such as they are. Always, I can hear her voice. It calls to me from the cracks of my cell, and from the fraying corners of my mind.

“Ziq! Jo’Ziq, my esteemed brother, come see the gift I have brought you,” she exclaims, laughter bubbling through her speech. I am warm again, for the unforgiving sun and the baking sands of Elsweyr make even the air itself quaver with energetic heat. Her joy infects me, even as I shake my head reprovingly at her antics. She hands me a cat doll, a common toy in the markets; this one wearing an exaggerated wizard’s cap and cloak.
“It’s you!” she beams.
“What are you, an overgrown kitten? If you don’t stop acting like a child, you will never win yourself a respectable husband.”
“Pah! Since when do people care for what is respectable? Only our father and his tribesmen pretend to, and that is because their ‘warrior’s honor’ makes them wealthy men.”
“Fair enough, but they still disowned me for choosing to forgo it. You should be careful, else their foolish concepts endanger you too, Ma’Asshi.”
She shifts uncomfortably and opens her mouth to respond, but we have already been spotted.
“Come away from that renrij,” the armored soldier commands sternly.
She meets my eyes in silent apology, but if this is the last time I see her I have only myself to blame. The Imperials who claim Khajiit are nothing but liars and thieves evidently never encountered my family. The man who was once my father glares with undisguised scorn until he has his obedience. She leaves.

But I can still hear her.

“Ziq!” she screams, repeatedly and urgently. It’s hard to hear her over the growling and keening of the lesser daedra pouring from the gate. It’s hard to hear them over the crash of the great grappling hooks burrowing into the ground, smashing through friend and foe alike. I try to reach her but I am thrown by the careless swipe of a hulking daedroth. The sky spins. I force myself forward again but, wheezing and crawling, all I see is blood and soot and grime. I fall again into a corpse-choked gully. I notice her sightless eyes gazing down on me from the opposite slope. The dremora watch me and laugh drily; the emptiness chills me to the bone. My vision fades, but somehow their mockery still echoes through the frozen air.

It is so cold here. Again and again my thoughts turn to that searing pain before my soul was stripped. But still it is nice, in some ways, to feel the old hurts again. I would sooner feel that than empty nothingness. Nothing is what we all are now, but if I try hard enough I can still want more. Somewhere inside me, I still feel the sting of my father’s insults. The listless spirits moldering away in Coldharbour might be nothing more than pathetic scum now, but we were once something greater.

“Jo’Ziq.” The voice is not hers, but that of some elder. An astral projection come perhaps to marvel at the damned as their sanity withers. I am vaguely curious why he would bother to learn our names. After all, we do not. Regardless, he insists on speaking with me. To speak of rescue. Rescue for me and for him, and then rescue for the entire world. But he is a fool to come here to this bare cell, for my world is already dead and gone.